My Threenager Swears Like a Sailor

Question: What do you do when your three-year-old runs around in public dropping the f-bomb?

 We knew this day was coming. Living without children for more than half our lives, we let the bad language fly. It’s part of our vernacular, a way to put a little more emphasis on something. As in, “Man, the snow in G6 was fucking sweet!” or “No fucking way, dude!” The literal meaning has been all but completely lost, and in many ways, it’s not even a bad word. It’s more of an expression of excitement, which, I guess makes sense in the literal interpretation. In the context of our beloved Colorado mountain town lifestyle, it’s not an insult, at least not in the passive verb application. It’s more of a euphemism than anything, and in my opinion, relatively harmless.

I’m just not sure what to think when my adorable little 3-year old starts yelling, “Lose your fucking face!” at the top of his lungs like he’s at a Phish concert tripping on mushrooms.

We can’t for the life of us figure out where he learned, “Lose your fucking face!”

 It doesn’t take long to realize your child picks up on everything you say and will eventually say it back to you, especially at this age, when their language is growing exponentially. You might not even realize your habit of repeating certain phrases until you hear your child say it back to you. But I’m pretty sure while I may have said, “No fucking way,” or even “shut the fuck up” I have never once said, “Lose your fucking face.” Not ever.

Of course I tried to explain this was a bad word, that he’d get in trouble if he said it. I even took the advice my own father gave me once and told him, in my sternest voice, “stop fucking swearing.”

We can’t for the life of us figure out where he learned this particular phrase, though that’s not to say we can’t take some responsibility for the occasional f-bomb that gets dropped in our house, or for unconscious swearing which is kind of the opposite of “conscious uncoupling” (excuse the Goop reference, but I’m trying to drive me SEO).

He started saying it maybe two weeks ago and it has quickly become his favorite game. He just loves to holler this at the top of his lungs whenever we are out in public, especially at places where a lot of people can hear him. He yells it in line at the grocery store, in the library, and in line at the post office where it is often painfully quiet. 

We have tried everything, from totally ignoring him to trying to pretend he’s getting it wrong by responding, “Lose your ducky face!” but nothing seems to be working.

We have asked him, “What does that mean?” and “Where did you learn that?” and “Who says that to you?” But he seems to understand that part of the fun of this new game is to withhold information. It’s all part of the power play. This is a child with such a mischievous streak and rebellious nature that often, the only way I can get him to do something is by telling him not to do it.

“Don’t you dare put your shoes on!” I’ll goad him in the mornings when faced with the insurmountable task of trying to get him dressed and out the door. “Whatever you do, do not put on your coat!” 

At least for now, the whole reverse psychology thing is working—except for in the case of the f-bombs. I can’t exactly play that game in this context. I wouldn’t even know how to. “Don’t you dare stop saying, “lose your f-cking face,” doesn’t seem to work. 

 I know he has no idea what this word means and I’m not about to explain it to him. If I tell him, “that’s a really bad word,” or “don’t ever say that word” it will only make him want to do it more, as he loves nothing more than to get a reaction. So far, the tactic of ignoring him doesn’t really seem to be working, nor does trying to trick him into thinking he’s confusing it with the word “ducky.” 

 If there’s one thing we do know, it’s this: karma is a bitch. Oops! Er, I mean, a not nice person.